I Love You, Aaron Hotchner
by CMPerry
Summary: Hotch is in danger when an unsub in Quantico starts killing men who look a lot like him. And how will the team cope when it's a member of the BAU who fits the profile? Hotch/Prentiss from the start.
1. Prologue

It was 6pm and I was standing in the middle of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. It was not a particularly extravagant office, but it was clean and professional looking. This was exactly the kind of office I had imagined myself working in when I was younger. My circumstances were not quite as I had imagined, but nevertheless, I was finally working for the FBI.

I looked around, taking in my new surroundings. No one was here; it was dim and quiet. I had spent years researching the BAU and its members and as I looked around I could easily recognise whose desks belonged to whom. I turned in a slow circle.

'_That's where Spencer Reid sits.' _I thought to myself. '_Across from him is Emily Prentiss. Then Derek Morgan. Over there are the offices of Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, David Rossi and Aaron Hotchner. _The_ Aaron Hotchner.'_

When I first walked in, I thought the department was empty, but as I stood surveying the big room, I saw movement from Hotchner's office. I looked up to see him sitting behind his desk with Emily Prentiss sitting opposite, both engrossed in paperwork.

I had heard so much about the legendary SSA Hotchner, I had seen pictures of him in the paper, even watched him speak on television, but I was still caught a little off guard by how much more handsome he was in person with his chiselled features and dark hair. I could not help imagining the toned body that lay beneath his black suit.

_I think I'm going to like working here,_ I murmured to myself with a small smile. Working near Agent Hotchner was the only reason I had worked so hard to get this particular job. I wanted to see him every single day. I had seen him only once on the television and I just knew. I knew I had to be with him, I knew I was in love with him.

He does not know me yet, but I know him. It has taken me months to finally land this job and now was my chance to get the man I deserve.

I was standing very still, so neither of the agents had even noticed me. I watched as they both wrote on case files, occasionally exchanging a few words. After a few moments, Agent Prentiss put her pencil down. She reached out and put her hand on Agent Hotcher's, stopping his writing. He looked up at her, his expression changing to one of curiosity and... was that lust?

What is this? I could feel fury building inside me. Agent Hotchner should be looking at _me_ like that, not that skinny little slut.

And it got worse.

He stood up and walked around the desk in a matter of seconds, pulling Prentiss out of her chair by her hands and...

_Kissing her._

I felt sick. Something told me this was not the first time this had happened either. His muscular arms were wrapped around her waist and before I even had a chance to blink, her legs were around his waist. He held her up easily, never breaking the kiss.

Jealousy and rage exploded within me. My hands clenched in to tight fists as I watched the couple through the window.

Aaron is mine. How dare she touch him. How dare she _kiss him_.

I started backing out of the office, trembling. But despite my fury, I couldn't contain a little smile as I realised that Agent Emily Prentiss has just been standing 10 meters away from the woman who was going to kill her and claim Agent Hotchner for her own.


	2. Too Good To Last

Agent Hotchner walked in to the BAU in good spirits that morning and it seemed the feeling was collective.

Garcia sat at Morgan's desk, apparently trying to fix his laptop. Morgan was leaning over her, grinning as he muttered something in her ear. She shot him a seductive look before saying,

"You had me at 'hello', Hot Stuff."

Hotch had spent ten years profiling the most complex, disturbed and intelligent minds in the US and yet he still could not make heads or tails of Garcia and Morgan's relationship. The day he understood their dynamic would be the day he had really succeeded as a profiler.

Across the room, Prentiss stood behind Reid at his desk, looking over his shoulder at what looked like a lava lamp in a glass.

"...so when the salt sinks to the bottom, it takes some of the oil with it and when the salt dissolves, the oil returns to the top. Pretty cool, huh?" he heard Reid saying.

Usually when Reid ended a sentence with "pretty cool, huh?" the overall consensus was that it was not cool at all, but Prentiss seemed genuinely interested and leaned closer to the glass of red goo to get a better look.

He allowed himself a little smile as he saw the child-like curiosity burning in Emily's eyes. For someone who had endured so much, she still managed to see the beauty in the world.

Even the newest recruit to the team, an intern named Olivia seemed to be enjoying herself, standing beside Prentiss as Reid continued to talk about his science demonstration. She looked up from the desk as Hotch walked past and she gave him a little smile. He responded with a polite nod and continued on to his office, passing Rossi on the way.

"Morning," he said.

"Hey Hotch," Rossi replied.

Hotch entered his office and glanced at the clock. It was almost nine o'clock but the team's caseloads had been so light lately that Hotch decided to let them amuse themselves for a little while longer.

He had just settled down at his desk when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he called.

He gave a rare smile as Prentiss walked in to the room. She looked lovely as always in a tight-fitting grey top and heels, with her dark hair falling like silk around her shoulders.

"I'm afraid the vacation's over," she said with a disappointed smile, gesturing towards the rest of the team outside who had all gathered around JJ, looking concerned.

"What have we got?" he asked.

"Three murders in Quantico," she said.

"Quantico?" Hotch repeated, a little taken aback.

"Yup, Garcia is going to pull up all the information on the victims and we'll meet in the conference room in ten."

"Thanks," he said.

Emily smiled again and headed for the door, but before she got there she stopped and turned back to him.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Of course," Hotch replied, slightly concerned by her serious tone.

"What do you think of the new intern?"

"Well, she has only been here a week, but as far as I can tell, she's doing fine. Why do you ask?"

"Are you telling me you haven't noticed?" she asked, approaching his desk again.

"Noticed what?"

Emily laughed and said "Well, Mr Internationally Renowned Profiler, she's smitten."

"With who?" Hotch asked, still confused.

"With you!" she said. "Haven't you seen the way she looks at you? In fact, she's been staring at you the whole time we've been talking. No, don't look now!" she said as Hotch turned to look out the window.

"Are you sure?" he asked, almost speechless.

"Of course I'm sure," she replied. "I just thought you'd better know, it might be something you have to handle... delicately."

"Right, of course," Hotch said, frowning.

"Girls do crazy things when they are infatuated," she said.

"Like what?" he asked, now a little concerned.

As he said that, Emily's phone slipped out of her hand and landed down the side of Hotch's desk.

"Let me get that," he said, getting off his chair.

"No, let me," Emily said leaning down.

As they both crouched down behind the desk to retrieve the phone, Emily grabbed his tie and pulled him in to a kiss.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He was desperate to continue the kiss, but he did not want the team to find out about him and Prentiss just yet. "Someone will see."

"No one will see," she said with a mischievous wink. She gave him another quick kiss before standing up.

She walked to the door and put her hand on the doorknob.

"I told you girls do crazy things," she said, before opening the door. "See you in the conference room."

* * *

**A/N Thanks for reading - please review to let me know how I'm doing. The next couple of chapters will be up very soon.**


	3. The Profile

A couple of hours later, the Quantico Police Department had gathered in the BAU, ready to hear the profile of the killer. Hotch thought it made a nice change to have the police come to them instead of vice versa.

Olivia stood a little way away from the rest of the BAU, since she was not experienced enough to be delivering a profile yet. However, Hotch could feel her gaze on him as he began to speak.

"The unsub, or unknown subject we are looking for is likely to be in his mid-twenties to mid-thirties and local to the area.

He has killed three men in Quantico in the last week with multiple stab wounds to the chest, legs and groin. All three victims were in their forties with dark hair, athletic and of similar height. Also, the victims were all dressed in suits before they were killed."

Morgan carried on,

"It's likely that the unsub is targeting men of similar appearance because they are surrogates for his real target. He is dressing them up like white-collar workers _before _he kills them because it is essential that they look the part before the attack can begin. The act of stabbing suggests that there is a sexual aspect to the murders. Given that there was no sexual assault, we could be looking at an impotent male but there is always the possibility of a female unsub, although it is less likely." Morgan paused for a moment to let his words sink in, before continuing.

"The unsub will not appear threatening to begin with because all three victims have let him in to their house and have then been caught off-guard by the attack. Therefore, he, or she, must have good people skills."

Then Reid began,

"The unsub's signature appears to be the act of scoring words in to the victims' skin with a knife post-mortem. The first victim only had the letter 'I' on him and at first it wasn't clear if it was the letter 'I' or the number 1, but after seeing the following two victims, it became clear that it was a letter. The second and third victims had the words 'love' and 'you' written on them, respectively."

"The unsub wrote 'I love you'?" one of the police officers asked, looking slightly revolted.

Hotch answered him,

"Yes. We can assume that the message is being left for the unsub's actual target so that he can see how important he is to the unsub."

"But if the unsub is in love with this person, why is he killing people who look like him?"

Reid chimed in with an answer this time,

"In a lot of serial killer cases, men, and sometimes women, will target the object of their obsession because they would rather see them dead than with someone else. This usually happens after they have been rejected by the person they are infatuated with."

"Can I... uh... can I ask something?" a young officer piped up, looking a little intimidated.

"Sure," JJ said with a smile.

"If, um, if this unsub is targeting middle-aged, white-collar men and leaving love notes on the bodies for the authorities to find... doesn't that mean his target is you?" he asked, turning to Hotch.

Hotch swallowed. The young officer had a point. There was no denying that the victims looked a bit like him, and the fact that they were being dressed in dark suits like his before they were killed was a little unnerving.

"It's too early to be making such assumptions," Hotch said. "There are hundreds of white-collar workers in Quantico with dark hair and each one is a potential victim. Thank you."

* * *

**A/N Please take a few seconds to review so I know I'm doing okay! **


	4. Aaron Hotchner

The next morning, Hotch was sitting in the conference room alone, staring at the huge whiteboard in front of him, trying to find any more clues about the unsub. The team had been up all night interviewing the friends and family of the victims, but so far, nothing helpful had come up.

He felt uneasy. The police officer yesterday had suggested that he was the target of an obsessive serial killer. He told himself again and again that it was probably a coincidence. For a start, he could not think of anyone who was obsessed with him. And he had not rejected anyone in the last year never mind the last week.

He felt his churning stomach settle a little as he convinced himself that he was not the unsub's target. He would however, have to be careful because he was definitely the unsub's type. He could easily end up another surrogate.

He couldn't bare the thought of dying. Not because he particularly valued his own life, but because he would leave behind his son, Jack. Little Jack had already lost his mother, he couldn't lose his father too. Hotch was suddenly seized by the overwhelming urge to call Jack, just to hear his voice, but it was still very early in the morning and he was staying with his Aunt Jessica. Neither Jessica nor Jack would thank him for waking them up so early.

Hotch gave a little jolt of surprise as Prentiss burst in to the conference room, throwing a file full of photos down on to the table. Her eyes were wide with worry.

"Prentiss," he started, but she interrupted him.

"Hotch, we have a really big problem."

She opened up the file before him and he almost gasped in alarm when he thought he was looking at pictures of Prentiss, lying bloody and broken on the floor.

"What is this?" he asked.

"It's the same unsub, he killed two women in their thirties last night," she said shakily.

"But he's completely changed his target, how do we know it's the same person?"

"His signature is the same."

She fanned out the rest of the pictures in the file to reveal words scored in to the stomachs of the two brunette women.

"They look like you..." he said, unable to really register anything else. Both the women were tall and slim, with long, dark hair. Even their faces resembled Emily's.

He glanced down at the photos again, having to repeatedly remind himself that he was not looking at pictures of Prentiss. There were many more stab wounds on the female victims. Overkill. Hotch couldn't count them all, but estimated around thirty different wounds. This was a murder driven by hate, rage and jealousy.

"What did the unsub write on them? The pictures aren't clear..."

Emily pulled out two more photos, this time clearly showing the victims' exposed stomachs and the words scored in to them.

"It says Aaron Hotchner. I love you, Aaron Hotchner."

* * *

**A/N Please review, positively or negatively! I would love to know what you think so far. Some Emily/Hotch fluff to come soon.**


	5. Coming Clean

Hotch didn't know what to say. He had been the target of unsubs before, but never as an object of infatuation and obsession. It scared him, but as always, he fought to keep his face neutral.

"Someone knows about us," Prentiss said, simply.

"How is that even possible?" Hotch asked, still studying the pictures before him and trying not to imagine that the bleeding, broken bodies were actually Emily.

"They must have seen us together after hours."

"But that means they work for the FBI..."

"I know."

"We have to tell the team," Hotch said. He was about to get up when Emily's hand closed around his.

"We'll fix this," she said, her deep brown eyes burning with determination.

Hotch couldn't bring himself to say anything, he just held Emily's hand for a moment, letting her touch steady him. He took a deep breath and took one last, long look at her before walking to the door and calling his team in to the conference room.

* * *

A few minutes later, Hotch and Prentiss stood in front of the whole team, the mutilated bodies of the five victims displayed on screens behind them with the words 'I love you, Aaron Hotchner,' above them.

No one spoke. They just stared from the screen, to Hotch, to Emily and back to the screen.

Hotch finally decided to break the silence.

"In light of these recent murders, I think it's important that you know something. Prentiss and I... uh..." He wasn't very good at this. Any discussion of romance left him feeling a little lost for words.

To his relief, Emily interjected, "Hotch and I are romantically involved," she said matter-of-factly.

The team still remained silent, but Hotch could read his team members' expressions easily.

JJ and Reid looked a little hurt. Morgan looked at Prentiss like she had slapped him. Perhaps because no one had confided in them. Garcia on the other hand, smiled a little. And Rossi just raised an eyebrow at Hotch, telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he had known for a while.

Olivia's expression didn't change. She just stared from Hotch to Prentiss for a moment before becoming very intent on studying her fingernails.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Morgan asked, barely hiding his irritation.

Prentiss spoke, "I wanted to, I really did, but we thought it would be a little premature..."

"How long?" asked Reid simply.

"Only about three weeks," Prentiss replied.

"You could have told us," JJ said, her voice laced with hurt.

"JJ, I'm sorry..." Prentiss started.

"Well I think it's great you guys!" Garcia interjected, breaking the tension easily. "Well... not the whole unsub-wants-to-kill-Hotch thing... but you make a great couple!"

"Congrats," Rossi said with a smile.

"Can we please focus on the task in hand?" Hotch interrupted, a little sharper than he had intended. "Clearly someone knows about the relationship between myself and Prentiss and isn't happy about it."

"Join the club," Morgan muttered under his breath. Garcia kicked him under the table.

Prentiss stepped forward a little and said,

"Since the unsub has presumably finished the message: 'I love you, Aaron Hotchner,' they are likely to be executing their end game soon which probably involves killing me and attempting to become romantically involved with Hotch. If Hotch rejects their advances, he will also be killed."

Hotch was a little taken aback by how coolly she discussed the possibility of her own death, but, he reminded himself, her life had been in danger more times than he could count.

"Seeing as the killing only began seven days ago, the unsub probably only found out about our relationship a week ago."

"However, our biggest problem is that we... um..." Hotch, yet again, felt a little uncomfortable with what he was going to say, so yet again Prentiss took over.

"The only place the unsub could have seen us together is here in the BAU. We have never been together outside this building."

"But that means - " Garcia started, looking alarmed.

"It means the unsub is most likely an employee of the FBI," Reid finished, looking serious.

"Exactly," Hotch said.

One by one, the members of the team turned to look at Olivia.

She looked up from the desk and stared around, looking scared.

"You're kidding right?" she asked. "You think I murdered five people?"

"No, but isn't it true that you are attracted to Hotch?" Reid asked, quite tactlessly.

"What?" she said, blushing scarlet. Hotch too, felt colour rise in his cheeks. "Well... I... I mean... who isn't?" she finished with a nervous laugh. Hotch saw JJ shift a little in her chair.

Suddenly a phone rang. It was Olivia's.

"I'm so sorry Agent Hotcher!" she exclaimed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "Oh, it's my mom, I'm so sorry, but unless I answer, she won't stop calling."

She stood and hurried to the door. "Mom, I'm really, really busy!" she said. Her voice became muffled as she paced back and forth outside the conference room

"Do you think she's the unsub?" Rossi asked, quietly.

"She fits the profile," Hotch said, unwillingly.

"She really does," Morgan agreed. "Unthreatening, mid-twenties, works for the FBI, good people skills, obsessed with Hotch... but come on, guys, look at her!" he said, gesturing out to the small blonde pacing the corridor. "She's so small, I don't know if she would be capable of stabbing a fully grown man ten times."

"Well, currently she's our only suspect," Hotch said.

Garcia glanced around the room, looking a little shocked. "I can't believe it," she said.

"I know, I never expected this either, Baby Girl," said Morgan.

"Not that," Garcia said. "I can't believe I'm the only girl in the BAU who doesn't have a crush on Hotch!"

"What?" JJ's head snapped up, her face turning a fantastic shade of red.

Morgan snorted with laughter.

Rossi tried to conceal his amusement behind an unconvincing cough.

"I'm... going to leave...check on Olivia..." Hotch said vaguely, taking one glance at a mortified JJ, before hurrying from the room.

* * *

The rest of the BAU sat in the conference room while Hotch went to speak to Olivia.

They were still enjoying the intense scarlet colour of JJ's cheeks after her secret crush on Hotch was discovered. Prentiss tried her best not to laugh at JJ's embarrassment, but instead put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

Reid still looked unimpressed. Morgan looked even more so.

"Why does no one tell me anything anymore?" he grumbled.

"I'll tell you who I have a crush on!" Garcia piped up, standing up and walking behind Morgan.

"Who?" he asked, still sulking.

"You, my chocolate god" she said, kissing him on the cheek.

He couldn't help a smile.

"Thanks, Baby Girl, but I already guessed that," he said, turning to grin at her.

Just then, the team fell silent as they heard Hotch's voice from outside.

"Where is she?" he roared. "Call security, have the building locked down, NOW!"

* * *

**A/N Thanks again for taking the time to read. Please review if you have a moment.**


	6. Scars

**A/N Here's a bit of Hotch/Prentiss fluff and some... other stuff. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Garcia, any luck getting a hold of Olivia?" Hotch asked. Over three hours had now passed since she had run off. One second she had been pacing the corridor outside the conference room and the next she was nowhere to be seen.

Moments after her disappearance, the whole team had been out in their SUVs, scouring the streets for her, but it had been in vain.

Despite the profile pointing towards the young intern being the unsub, Hotch could not help the spark of concern that he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"Nada," she replied from the computer screen. "It's ringing but I'm not getting an answer."

"You've gotta admit," Morgan said, "it's pretty suspicious that she has run away."

"Maybe she was just scared?" Garcia said, hopefully.

"I don't think so, Baby Girl," Morgan said with a sad smile. "She wouldn't have run unless she had something to hide."

Hotch had always admired Garcia's optimistic view of the world despite seeing nothing but tragedy for most of her adult life. He often wondered how she had managed to cling on to her positivity for so long.

"So what now, Hotch?" Morgan asked with a poorly disguised yawn.

"Now, you all need to get some rest," he said. His legs felt so heavy that he was having to perch on the end of a desk. Standing upright did not seem like much of an option at the moment.

"But what about Olivia?" Garcia asked from the laptop.

"Quantico police will take over the search for the next few hours. None of us will be much use until we've slept."

"It's true," Reid piped up. "We haven't slept for thirty-six hours. Studies show that our decision making skills, attention span and ability to make plans will be too poor to perform even the simplest tasks, let alone catch an unsub."

"Less talking, more sleep, Pretty Boy," Morgan said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past him and towards the door.

"I want everyone back here at 8am," Hotch said as the rest of the team followed Morgan towards the elevator. Hotch didn't like the idea of sending the team home with an unsub still at large, but as he watched, Reid nearly walked in to the door frame and Rossi looked like he was going to fall asleep against the elevator.

"Wait up!" he heard Garcia call. Hotch looked down to see the she had disappeared from the computer screen and was now emerging from her office and hurrying after her friends. Rossi put a hand between the elevator doors and held it for her.

Soon it was just Hotch and Prentiss left standing in the middle of the BAU. As soon as the elevator door had closed, she slipped easily in to his arms, resting her head on his chest.

"What now?" came her muffled voice.

"Sleep," he said simply, pushing a strand of her long, dark hair out of her eyes.

"Are you still in danger?" she asked.

"Until Olivia is caught, I think we both are."

"So really," she said, a little smile playing on her lips, "neither of us should really be alone tonight." She glanced up to meet his eyes and his heart started to beat a little faster.

"I think it would be irresponsible for us to even think about being alone," he said, managing his first smile in days.

* * *

Half an hour later, they arrived at Hotch's house.

"Drink?" he asked, pouring himself a scotch.

"I'll have what you're having," she replied, kicking off her shoes and putting down her gun and badge.

He handed her a glass and flopped down on the couch, putting his own gun down on the coffee table, making sure it was within arm's reach. He had made the mistake of discarding his gun when he walked through his front door once before and that had landed him in hospital with more stab wounds than he cared to count.

It was after Foyet had attacked him that Hotch had really started getting close to Emily. She would pick him up and take him to work, then drive him home again at the end of the day. His pride wouldn't let him admit it, but he was so glad to have her looking out for him.

He still hated entering his house alone. He cursed Foyet for that. His house was supposed to be a place of sanctuary, a place where he could shut out the horrors of the day and feel almost normal. But he couldn't do that anymore; he entered his own home, terrified of what, or who might be hiding in the shadows.

Trying to push those thoughts from his mind, he sipped his scotch. It was hard to feel quite so afraid with Emily beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Neither of them spoke for a while, but they didn't have to. Silences were never uncomfortable with Emily. They just sipped their drinks and tried to unwind a little.

"Shall we go to bed?" she asked after a while, draining the last of her scotch and putting down the glass. There was still a part of Hotch that couldn't believe his luck when Emily Prentiss said something like that to him. Never in a million years did he think that someone as successful, beautiful and charismatic as Emily would want to be with him, and yet here she was.

"Yes, we need sleep."

"Sleeping wasn't exactly what I had in mind..." she said, her deep chocolate eyes smouldering as she kept his gaze.

He smiled again and without a second's hesitation, took her lips in his. He blindly put his glass of scotch down, not caring if he spilt it. Emily's hands on his chest... tangled in his hair... undoing his shirt... were much more important. He hadn't realised until now how much he had craved her touch over the past few days.

She moved, catlike, from her position beside him to being on top of him, her knees either side of his hips.

Hotch watched in awe as she perched on top of him and undid the rest of his shirt buttons, occasionally flipping her shining hair out of her face.

As always, though, Hotch couldn't help the twinge of unease as Emily pulled back his shirt and his old scars were revealed. But she didn't seem to care. She dipped down and kissed his chest and then moved lower... and lower.

He knew how she liked to be in control, but so did he. He grabbed her waist and, in one swift movement, flipped her over so that he was on top. He couldn't help but laugh at her look of slight surprise at suddenly having her back to the sofa.

Hotch slipped his unbuttoned shirt off and as he did so, he felt Emily's hands deftly undo his belt. Not wanting this to be over too quickly, he took her wrists and pinned then down above her head with one hand while pulling her back in to a kiss with the other.

Just then, his phone rang. He couldn't help the feral growl of frustration that escaped him, because he knew he had to answer the call. But he gave Emily a mischievous grin as he refused to let go of her wrists. He fully intended to pick up where he left off as soon as the phone call was over.

He felt her squirm in frustration, clearly not used to not being in control.

"Hotchner," he said as he answered the phone. But he nearly yelped in surprise when Emily somehow undid his fly with her toes and he felt her foot brush against his crotch.

But the mischievous glint in her eye fell away as she saw Hotch's expression change.

He let go of her wrists and stood up, listening intently to the police officer on the other end of the phone. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, he pulled his shirt back on haphazardly fastened a few buttons.

As soon as the police officer finished speaking, he hung up. Emily was kneeling up on the sofa with a look of intense worry.

"Hotch?"

"They have found Olivia, she was still in Quantico."

"Well that's good isn't it?" she asked.

"They found her body," Hotch clarified, sitting down on the opposite sofa as he spoke.

"She's dead?"

"And she's not the unsub," he said, rubbing his temples.

"How do you know?" Emily asked, now standing.

"Because the real unsub killed her. Same M.O."

"Did they leave a message on her?"

"Not this time, she wasn't a planned victim. But she died from multiple stab wounds to the chest, legs and groin."

Hotch was suddenly furious at himself. How could he have suspected his own intern? Surely she had deserved the benefit of the doubt. He took a moment before he could bring himself to tell Emily the worst part.

"She..." he started, closing his eyes against the headache that was developing in his forehead.

"Hotch, what is it?"

"She died trying to hunt down the real unsub. She died trying to prove her innocence."

He didn't open his eyes, but heard Emily cross the room and sit down beside him. Neither of them spoke for a while, both just trying to process what they had just heard.

Finally, Emily broke the silence,

"So the real unsub is still at large?"

"Yes."

Hotch froze, and so did Emily when she realised that it hadn't been Hotch who had answered her question.

He looked slowly up to see a dark female silhouette in the doorway to his bedroom. He automatically went for his gun, but realised to his dismay that it was still on the coffee table on the other side of the room.

"I have waited so long for you Aaron. Now we can finally be together," the unsub said, calmly raising a gun and pointing it to Emily's chest.

"Now we can finally be alone."


	7. You're Mine

**A/N I can't apologise enough for the long delay. I have to thank ShadowGirl27 for getting me going again or this story might have ended up unfinished. Expect the next chapter within a day or two. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

Both Hotch and Prentiss stood up when they saw the woman in the doorway. Hotch instinctively pushed Emily behind him.

The unsub stepped out of the shadows, and to Hotch's surprise, he did not know her at all. He thought he would at least recognise her from the FBI.

She was almost as tall as Hotch, and at least twice as broad as Emily. Unlike little Olivia, this woman looked more than capable of stabbing fully grown men to death.

"Who are you?" he asked and immediately wished he hadn't.

The unsub just stared at him. "You still don't know me?" she asked.

Hotch said nothing, desperately trying to remember if he had met her.

"You have spoken to me twice," she said, her hands beginning to tremble with anger. She shifted the gun from Emily to point at him. "The first time you said 'goodnight' and the other time, you said 'have a good night'. You must remember."

Hotch still remained silent.

"I'm the one who cleans your department every night," she spat angrily.

Jumping at the opportunity to calm the unsub down he said,

"Of course! I remember now." He knew that several women came in at night to clean the BAU, but he had never known their names.

"You do?" she asked, sighing in relief. "I knew you would."

In a stroke of luck, he caught a glimpse of a gold bracelet around her wrist which had the name 'Ruth' engraved on to it.

"I'm sorry, Ruth, it was rude of me to have forgotten about you."

"You know my name!" she exclaimed. Not entirely lowering the gun, she took a step forward and put a hand on his face. "Oh Aaron, you _do _care..." He desperately wanted to pull away from her, but he restrained himself. He held his breath as she moved closer to him and kissed him. Her lips tasted of cigarettes and salt.

"Yes, how could I forget you?" he lied, pulling away and doing his best to remain composed, before she could kiss him any more. As he was speaking, he felt Emily move behind him. He knew she was getting ready to lunge for her gun, but she wouldn't even make it half way across the room before the unsub would shoot her.

"Don't," he growled, putting an arm out to stop her moving. For the moment, he was the only thing standing between Emily and a psychotic unsub and he wanted to keep it that way. If anyone was going to die today it would be him. To his relief, Emily did as she was told and stayed put, but Ruth had realised what was going on.

She looked panicked for a moment. She began to pace manically, shifting the gun from hand to hand as she tried to wipe off the sweat from her palms on her jeans. Hotch could tell she was out of her depth. As far as he could tell, she had never had to handle more than one victim at once. It didn't look like she had ever used a gun either. But this didn't make her any less formidable. If anything, her inexperience made her more volatile and less predictable; a dangerous combination.

She walked over to the TV and pulled a load of wires out. Throwing them at Hotch she said, shakily,

"Tie her up."

Ruth kicked a dining chair towards him. He turned to Prentiss.

"Just do it," she whispered, giving him a little nod. Cool as ever, she took the chair and sat herself down.

"I'm sorry," Hotch said, frowning, picking up the wires.

"Tie the slut up! Tie her up or she dies!" Ruth shouted, a sudden, furious edge to her voice. Hotch felt the cold gunmetal press against his head. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest and his mouth went dry. Prentiss took one look at the unsub holding the gun to his head and her expression changed; a look or absolute determination flashed in her brown eyes. Instantly, Hotch knew she was about to do something reckless.

"Emily - " but before he could say anything else, Emily kicked him hard in the chest, throwing him backwards and out of the way of the unsub's gun. Hotch watched in horror, completely winded, as Emily launched herself across the room. In a matter of seconds, she had picked up her gun and two gunshots resounded through the house.

The unsub collapsed to the ground. Prentiss was as deadly a shot as ever. One shot was all it had taken to kill the unsub instantly... One gunshot? He had distinctly heard two. He whipped around to look at Emily.

"Got her..." she said, before she, too, collapsed to her knees.


	8. Stay With Me

"Emily!" Hotch shouted, heaving himself up from the floor. He half ran, half stumbled towards her and fell to his knees. The unsub had hit her in the stomach and blood was already covering her grey shirt.

Ignoring the burning pain in his chest, he leaned over her, lifting her head up.

"Emily, open your eyes," he choked.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes to look at him.

"You're going to be fine," he said, but his expression contradicted him. He used his free hand to put pressure on the gunshot wound, but blood was still seeping out from between his fingers.

He stretched across her to grab his cell phone which had slid between the sofa cushions. Struggling to keep a hold of it in his blood-soaked hand, he pressed speed dial 2. He wasn't sure why he didn't call 911.

"Hotch?" came Morgan's voice.

"You have to get here," he said.

"What's going on?"

"Prentiss has been shot, the unsub found us, get an ambulance."

"Where are you?"

"My house."

Morgan said nothing else, he just hung up. Hotch knew he would be here in a matter of minutes and an ambulance wouldn't be far behind.

"Emily," he said again. "Emily, look at me."

With a great effort, she opened her eyes again. Her breathing was becoming shallow and her face was quickly draining of colour.

"It's okay, Hotch," she said, with a weak smile. She reached up and put a surprisingly steady hand on his face. "Everything will be okay."

"It's not okay," he said angrily, his eyes burning with tears. "Damn it, Emily, this is exactly why I was afraid to fall in love with you."

She wiped away his tears with her thumb.

"And I love you, Aaron Hotchner."

"It sounds a lot better coming from you than seeing it sliced in to five dead bodies," he said, with an attempt at a smile, desperately trying to stay calm.

"And they say romance is dead," she said. She gave a little laugh that quickly turned in to coughing. He had to suppress a moan when he saw blood on her lips.

Holding her in his trembling arms, he couldn't help thinking how similar this scene looked to the pictures of the unsub's victims. A dark haired woman covered in blood, lying crumpled on the floor...

But there was one difference this time.

"You are not going to die," Hotch said.

"Is that an order, Boss?" she asked, weakly.

"Yes."

"But then, I've never been one for following orders," she whispered. He heard the sound of a car screeching to a halt outside the apartment building.

"Emily, you have to hold on," he said. "Morgan is here and the ambulance is coming. Hold on Emily, I can't lose you as well..." but Prentiss's eyes were already closing.

"Emily, stay with me!" he said, giving her a shake. "Emily!"

But he felt her go limp in his arms. She would have looked as if she were asleep if it weren't for the trickle of blood leaking from her lips. He pulled her up, holding her close to him and rocking her back and forth.

"Stay with me," he whimpered, crying uncontrollably in to her shoulder.

Minutes too late, he heard the wail of an ambulance siren pulling up outside.


	9. Funeral

Hotch stood in front of the mirror in his office trying to make his tie sit right, but his unsteady hands were making it very difficult. He felt uncomfortable in his black suit, acutely aware that this was the first time he had worn it since his wife's funeral.

There was a knock at the door. He tried to say 'come in' but the words caught in his throat. Morgan stuck his head around the door.

"You ready to go, Hotch?"

He nodded.

He vaguely noted how strange it was to see Morgan in a black suit.

"Hotch?" Morgan asked, frowning.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

Hotch didn't answer straight away. He took one look at his own pale reflection; the dark circles under his eyes; his badly tied tie and realised that he wasn't okay.

"It's all my fault, Morgan," he choked.

"No, Hotch, don't do that to yourself. You couldn't have known how any of this was going to work out. None of us could."

"If I was a better profiler, I could have prevented this."

"Come on, Hotch, that's stupid. You are the best profiler out the lot of us."

"I could have been better. "

Morgan suddenly looked a little irritated.

"We could all be a bit better, Hotch," he said sharply. "We all have cases that will haunt us for the rest of our lives but we deal with it. And since when were you the self-pitying type?"

Hotch said nothing, he just stared at Morgan, a little taken aback.

"Come on, Hotch, we've got a funeral to get to."

* * *

As he walked out of his office and saw his colleagues, he had to fight the urge to go back in to his office and stay there. He could barely look them in the eye because he had let them down.

Garcia stood holding Morgan's hand while Reid was just staring blankly at the wall. JJ and Rossi were talking quietly to each other, but the room felt empty without Prentiss.

He walked down the few steps to join his team.

"Are we all ready?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Morgan had been right, he wasn't usually the type to wallow in self-pity. He owed it to his team to keep it together, even though inside he was being eaten alive by guilt.

Everyone nodded except Reid who still hadn't moved.

"Reid?" JJ asked.

"I miss Emily," was all he said.

"We all do," JJ said, putting a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"Aw, guys, I'm touched."

They all looked around to see Pretiss standing in the BAU doorway.

No one spoke, but Hotch crossed the room in a few strides and pulled her in to his arms.

They stood like that for a long time and for the first time, Hotch realised that he didn't care who was watching.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally.

"I discharged myself from hospital."

"Why?" Hotch asked.

"Because I knew you would be beating yourself up about Olivia's death and I wanted to be here for you."

Hotch kissed the top of her head and held her a bit tighter.

"You shouldn't have left hospital."

"Hotch, I'm fine," she said determinedly.

"Three days ago you died in my arms. You can't be okay."

"Please, I was only dead for like three minutes, and it's not even the first time I've died," she said with a small smile.

But Hotch's expression didn't change.

"Okay, that's not funny," she said. "But seriously, I'm okay. I want to be here with you." For the first time since arriving she took her eyes off Hotch and looked to the rest of the team. "I wanted to be here with all of you."

Morgan was the next to pull her in to a hug. Hotch's stomach twisted as he remembered Morgan's face when he burst through his front door and saw Prentiss lying limp in his arms. He had taken one look at the expression on Hotch's face before punching a hole in the wall. His anger only lasted a second however, and he fell to his knees as the paramedics hurried in to the room.

Hotch kept playing the night over and over in his head, wondering what he could have done differently. Could he have talked the Unsub down? Could he have prevented Prentiss being shot? Could he have saved Olivia's life?

But there was no time to brood now, he had to go and pay his respects to the young intern who had lost her life because her own team had suspected her of murder. It was never going to be a pleasant day, but he felt stronger for having Emily by his side again.


End file.
